


in order.

by Anonymous



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Adultery, Brother/Brother Incest, Consensual Sex For Bad Reasons, M/M, PTSD, Past Rape/Non-con, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's only fair.
Relationships: Torgrim/Atli (Vinland Saga)
Kudos: 1
Collections: Anonymous





	in order.

**Author's Note:**

> Another one with the setup of Torgrim returning to his usual self some of the time once Atli's returned home after being held by the Jomsvikings.
> 
> @vincestsaga on twitter for more brocontent 👍

Work's different, now. A lot of little steps added to make it seem like Torgrim's doing anything. Stacking the low-hanging branches his brother chops, carrying them to the edge of the clearing so they're closer to home when the two of them leave. It's meaningless. But the other option is chopping wood himself. Looking at the tool Atli's holding, the one that makes ice start to shoot from the tip of his spine all through his veins, he turns his head away and abandons the thought.

They don't need wood at home. Atli's pretending they'll store this and chop it up later, and Torgrim's not quite at his breaking point yet. He still has a little politeness left in him.

"How've you been?"

"Well enough."

Never used to be polite to his own brother. That's different now, too.

"Food to your liking?"

"S'fine." Like everything else, the cooking's not quite right. Nothing can taste right to a man under someone else's roof.

"And your bedding?"

"Just fine." Torgrim shoots a glare at the back of his brother's head. Atli could easily be doing something that would actually help his family, but Torgrim hasn't got fond enough of the family to point that out. He doesn't have to be wasting their time even further like this, though. They could at least be getting something done inside their own heads.

Not that he likes spending much time inside his own head these days.

"You are getting enough food?" Atli's arms swing and a crack splits the base of a branch. Not enough to drop the branch, and he doesn't pull back for another swing. Instead he lowers his arms.

"It's fine. It's all fine. Everything is just fine."

"Sex?"

It's blunt enough that Torgrim almost answers, _No_. Then, shooting an incredulous look this time, he holds his tongue for a moment to collect himself.

This look goes just as unseen. Atli doesn't turn his head.

"Not right now, thanks," he says acidly after a few seconds. Too many seconds for it to sound clever, and he wonders too late if it was a good idea to let that fall so flat.

Atli still doesn't turn. "D'you want it?"

"What are you offering, whore money? Can you spare it, the way you've been working?" There probably isn't even a single whore in a little place like this. Let alone enough to have his choice.

The clearing expands around him as he stares at the set of his brother's shoulders from behind, and he drops the branch he's been holding even before Atli forces himself around to face him.

"Atli. Don't—"

"I'm offering me."

Narrowing now, the clearing contains nothing but space. They've hardly gone through a handful of branches, and there's no work to grab hold of to steady himself. Just a few thin pieces of wood not worth bending down for. Atli has something to squeeze, at least.

"No," Torgrim says. "No, you're not."

"I won't fight and I won't scream. You can have me like a woman."

"Shut up. You're not funny. Let's get back to work, we've spent enough time talking."

Atli doesn't lift the tool he's holding. "I want you happy."

"That makes two of us. Doesn't mean we need to fuck."

"Need, then. I need you to be happy." Torgrim starts to object and Atli waves it away. "I'm giving you food, clothes, a roof. What else can I do if you need sex too?"

"Not even going to offer me your wife?"

She wouldn't have him. No woman would now. Even a quick roll in the hay's not worth the risk of pregnancy with a man who can't pay child support. 

"Just—"

"Just what!?"

"Be gentle." His little brother's cringing from him like a kicked dog. "Please. You can do anything, I just can't bear..."

"What the fuck do you think of me?" It's not a dog kicked for the first time that Torgrim's seeing there. Not the kind of animal they used to kick themselves. "What're you trying to turn me into? My brother's rapist?"

This dog knows what a blow feels like.

"I don't want you getting too stressed." Atli looks him in the eye. Still cringing backward but defiant. The tree behind him has barely been touched for all this time he's been working. "Don't I have the right to worry?"

"You've got enough shit to worry about. Let me take care of my own affairs."

"I thought about you," Atli says abruptly, with a jerk of the head that doesn't quite break their increasingly painful eye contact. "I'm sorry. Just what you'd say, to cheer me up. But I got so tired and I couldn't keep anything straight. I knew you'd only ever be teasing me. If it hurt so much I couldn't—" His voice strains and breaks for a moment. "I knew you'd stop right away when I asked, if I just waited another second. There were so many seconds."

"Don't talk about that unless you want me losing my temper." But Torgrim doesn't know how to keep his brother from talking anymore. He used to be good at that. It slipped away somewhere. "Whatever happened there, it's not worth remembering."

"I didn't think I'd have to look at you like this again."

Atli looks old now. It didn't happen all at once, but that's how Torgrim notices. All at once. How tired his little brother is. Worn out, with marks on his skin that won't ever heal. It's too much, on top of everything he's got to be worry about, and he snaps, furious at the _fucking nerve_ Atli has to scare him:

"Must be hard on you, having to see me."

"No," says Atli. "Please. You don't know what it means, having you here." He's wilting, leaning more and more on the ~~{ }~~ still in his hand. It's touching the ground. That's bad for the sharpness. He knows that.

Torgrim looks away to keep from seeing anything else drain out of his brother. "Quit trying to ruin it, then."

"I need it to not hurt. Just once. And you're not happy. If there's anything I can give you, I'll do it."

"Men don't offer this." They do. Not the kind of men Torgrim wants Atli to be, but they do. He's dodging the real issue, though. " _Brothers_ don't offer this, Atli. What the fuck are you trying to do?"

"But I'm offering. I told you, it's old to me now. I guess it sounds crazy."

"Worse than crazy." Torgrim casts his hands up, despairing. Atli can't have lost his mind, it's too much of a luxury with the money he has. "If you let this happen, how do you plan to sleep tonight? How do you plan on waking up every morning of your life?"

"Same way I do now, I suppose."

"But you don't go back after this, Atli! What you're talking about is something that changes everything."

"I said that to myself about being a thief. And about getting caught. It's funny, though. Once it happens you just stop caring." Atli shrugs, still leaning his weight onto the tool he's holding. A shoulders-only shrug, a tenth the size of the funny exaggerated way he used to show he was done talking. "Well, if you don't want to, you don't want to." Returning his other hand to the ~~{ }~~ , he turns away from Torgrim. His hands seem to struggle in hoisting it, as if it's grown into the ground.

"Wait," Torgrim says. "Wait. Just put that thing down and we'll talk."

Atli turns back slowly with only mild interest, and Torgrim grabs him hard to keep from freezing.

He spits in his hand and feels for the softness in his brother's aging body. He holds him until he stops shaking, says his name so many times it feels like he's going crazy, and then they're both quiet for a while except for the breathing. They used to breathe together like this after a fight, him fake-wheezing to make fun of Atli if he was slow getting back to normal—or was it Atli who used to tease him—but never this desperately. Never this kind of gasping to fill his lungs. It's not even that loud, for all they've gotten so old. It's just that it's Atli himself Torgrim's trying to breathe this time.

There are wet drops on the back of his brother's neck when they're done, and Torgrim gazes at them dumbly for a few moments, wondering who left those there and if Atli can feel them through the sweat. He grabs Atli's tunic and shoves it at him before he can try sitting up, then pulls his own trousers up and his tunic on, as he steals glances at Atli for any signs of slow movement. He yanks him up to his feet the second it's all the way on. He can't stand the chance of any in-between steps, between the ground and upright. He can't watch his brother wilt again.

"Do you give a shit what love is?"

"What the fuck're you on about?" With one boot Torgrim shoves the crotch of Atli's trousers up far enough to be grabbed, and starts fitting his belt back on for him. He could swear it fit a few notches wider, once.

Atli looks at him searchingly for a second, then touches his face so sudden and soft it makes Torgrim start back. "Me neither."

They give each other everything. It's how they've always lived. Taking, too. That comes easy.

"I would've spent a year in there to hear you say my name again."

"Don't," says Torgrim. "I'm here. You're here. Don't keep going back."

Torgrim takes Atli nervously by the shoulder as they're going out, and to his relief Atli lets himself be led by the hand. It's like leading a child, but he remembers what that's like, and it's fine. Better than leading a ghost.

"It won't have to happen again," Atli tells him. "I just—just once."

"Yeah," Torgrim says. He won't ask, and Atli won't offer, and it'll happen again somehow. He can feel what his brother's holding on the other side, and he'd just as soon leave that to rot amongst the trees. "Just lean on me if you have any trouble, hear me?"

"What I said about my name." Atli stops for a second and Torgrim turns as quickly as he can, now; afraid he's about to fall. "I'd do anything for you, always."

Torgrim looks at him. "Yeah?" When his brother says nothing he almost stamps his foot in impatience. "Atli, I just _fucked_ you, what more proof do you want? You want to hear it back? Fine! I'd do absolutely anything for you, and I _have_ , and I hope you're happy!"

"You don't have to say anything." A smile starts to show on Atli's face; of course he'd let Torgrim say the whole thing anyway. Of course. "I am feeling pretty pleased, actually. But even if you can't say my name, sometimes, I don't mind about that. You're always my brother. I didn't mean you have to give something back."

"Well, you're getting everything back, because I _am_ your brother." Torgrim turns away quickly, keeping a tight hold of Atli's hand. "What was that other shit you were spouting off about? Forget about that, too."

"Nothing. Just something stupid."

Atli follows along, like he used to when they were kids, moving with a little more spirit now. There's hardly any wood bundled under Torgrim's other arm, but they've done something with the day that can't be grown back, any more than these particular branches can ever return to the tree.

It's only fair, after all. Something ruined at one end deserves to be ruined at both.


End file.
